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A group gathers near a leather vendor, a mysterious note is passed from a beggar to the group. They seem to be unable to decipher the code it is written in.

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Smuggler Theme for May

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When filching to compliment a lady, its okay to have a few well versed metaphors on hand. They may come in handy some day.

A slightly grey sky overhead at the moment, no threat of ran, but more the arrival of warmer spring weather seems to have drawn sporadic grey clouds. Under that weather, Raffiano di Albrici is in the markets today. He's near the leather workers; selling utility items, garments, saddles and such as the real fashion vendors prefer to sell in the Tessuto Piazza across town. He is folding arms over his chest, one hand lifted to scratch his chin. "And you say the leather is set such that it will lead to less chaffing?" Like that's a thing, ah, but the enjoyment of haggling may make it so. "Yes, Signore, we've tightened the hind, widened the back side such that it is a more comfortable ride to be certain." Whether anyone buys either side of it, the two seem to enjoy the haggle and art of the sale at least.
Today, also, in the market is an Older man, looks like a bigger near a walkway leading south to Via Ovest under and between two buildings. Room to pass him by, he does have a withered old hand lifted up, simply saying "Please" to any who pass him by and no one gives him that much time. An occasional coin drops as if too bothered to put it in his hands for the moment. Perhaps he is blind, he doesn't pick up the money.

Arabella sometimes comes to this bazaar to shop and likewise brings her small coin purse for any purchases she may make. It is a might bit fuller today after several hands of winning in the tavern the day before. As she meanders through the stalls, she hears the 'Please' plea from someone and takes a look around until her eyes land on the old man with his withered hand lifted. The small collection of coins around him. There's a slight frown and she keeps a hand on her own coin purse as she indicates the coins to the old man. "There are coins on the ground, Signore." A quick look around and she catches sight of Raffiano at the leather vendor. She calls out softly. "Have you decided on riding gloves after all then?" Opting to keep an eye between the Albrici and the beggar man, she doesn't wander off yet.

Having heard that a few new ships had arrived into the city recently and curious to find out what goods might have made their way into Matora, Cosimo arrives at the Mercato Primario with several house guards in tow. The first thing he notices is the man begging for coins. It seems there's something else in his hands, but he won't really ask right now. Best to keep an eye out for anything suspicious though. And while there might be days where the Conte would feel willing to give a generous donation to such a man (especially if there's an audience), but today doesn't seem to be one of those days. He reaches into his coinpurse and pulls out a pair of the lowest valued coins he has and hands them to one of his guards, who then drops them right in front of the old man. Still, something doesn't quite sit right with him, and he takes a few steps closer to Arabella, who he just notices. "Signora, a pleasure to see you again." Though his attention remains on the beggar.

Beggars aren't a concern for Isabella, at least outwardly, as she is weaving her way between a few stalls that seem to be focused on livestock or such products. The woman pauses at one, run by a man who seems to be a little less well off than a few of his compatriots and she speaks to him, "Sir, would you happen to have sheep's milk, from a black wooled sheep specifically?" Her tone and accent, unique as she drawls towards him. Only while waiting for him to flummox himself a bit and babble about some does Isabella glance around more in her area. "Oh no sir, I only want black sheep, and would need to see the animal and milk myself to purchase." The negotiations continue.

*

Raffiano is in the art of the sale, but turns at the sound near by, "Signora, yes, riding gloves it shall be, and the perfect saddle. It seems my family thinks I am the worst rider, so I must prove my worth in a race, with my sisters." Fair play, families and all that. He is grinning and offers an incline of his head to Arabella. That smile catches he could go on with some more words, he is never much at a loss it seems. As the Conte arrives, its clear Raffiano is clueless on whothe man is, certainly not even certain which House the man is from despite guards and any display of coat of arms. He's smart enough to know him for a noble at least. "Good day Signore," he inclines his head, perhaps not enough for a Conte, but the effort made with indifference to knowing the reality of the situation. A brow raising, black milk sheep, he's not certain what the difference is but he turns to look at the nearby vendor the same, curiousity growing. Its a portent, the black sheep, something about him, but he's in good standing. Curious.
The Old Man continues to ignore the coins, holding up that hand to passers-by, and yet coins dropped, he doesn't move to take them and instead seems to be offering his hand.

*

Noticing the parchment in his hand, Arabella focuses on it a moment, hearing the 'please' again. Still, she is hesitant to go near it, or the man in particular. "What is it, old man?" Just so he knew she was speaking to him this time. As she realizes the Conte had taken notice too, she gives a half shrug, puzzled. "A pleasure to see you, Signore." Not wanting to single him out as a Conte, in case it turned out badly. "Perhaps we should read the parchment?" Indicating with a nod towards it, while keeping a hand on her coin purse, not about to be a victim of a pick pocket with this being the distraction. A smile and nod to Raffiano she catches him looking to Isabella, so she takes a look at her only momentarily realizing she was shopping for an oddity. "Strange things are afoot.." but for the life of her, she could not place any of the puzzle pieces together.

*

"Perhaps we should." Cosimo murmurs to Arabella, nodding to both her and Raffiano, though he doesn't take his eye off the old man and his parchment. If he's bothered by being addressed as Signore instead of Conte, he gives no outward appearance of this. He turns to one of his guards. "Alonzo, please see what this gentleman requires will you?" He gestures and the guard steps forward and approaches the old man to speak with him in low tones, politely of course. Cosimo turns now towards the others. "It is a curious thing, is it not? Maybe we will find out what this is about." Well, hopefully as he himself has no desire to step close to the man personally. That was a good way to get stabbed.

*

The conversation Isabella is having goes on for a bit before she smiles and laughs softly, shaking her head, "No, I do not want the sheep itself. There's no sacrifices planned. The milk is better for treatment of hair when it matches the color of the hair." There's a shake of her head and tuck of her chin in acknowledgement, "I will consider it good trader, but will be looking around." Turning she realizes a small audience has taken note of her and she offers a polite curtsy of greeting towards the others. "Good day," her tone is pleasant but trails off as her attention gravitates towards the old man that seems to be on the peripheral. "Oh dear…" about to take steps herself towards the old man she stops as Cosimo sends Alonzo instead, glancing towards the Conte and dipping another gesture of humble greeting, amusement touching her eyes momentarily.

*

The Old man seems to latch onto the arm from the Guard, who while not startled wasn't expecting that. The old man speaks quietly with him as the parchment is pressed into the guards hand. As the guard takes the item and returns, they may notice the old man waits a moment, then gets up to walk away when the guards back is turned.
Raffiano is more interested in that saddle, "I'll take it," he agrees to focus more on present company, filching coins from his own purse to have the merchant deliver the item to his house, "And the gloves." A smirk at himself as he tacks that on with Arabella in present company. He did not see the parchment, is not sure what they're curious about regarding the old man. But Isabella is closer, "Good woman, what is the value of such milk?" Black sheep milk, for all he knows its a spell she means to cast, such is the raise of his brow at his own curiousity.
Alonzo returns to speak quietly to the Conte, offering over the parchment.

*

Standing nearby the Conte, Arabella gives the guard a curious look when he returns with the parchment. As it's handed over, she questions. "What does it say?" Her eyes follow the departing old man with a slight crinkle to them, puzzled still. There's another look to Raffiano and Isabella, but as Raffi purchases the gloves she laughs softly. "Fine choice." Still curious as to the milk and hair though, she doesn't ask further about it. Instead, she turns back to the Conte, both brows lifted as she awaits the message from the parchment.

Tilting his head, Cosimo listens to Alonzo's report and unfurls the parchment to read it. He looks at it for several long moments, turning the parchment in his hands, holding it far away, holding it close to his face, squinting at it. Finally he sighs. "I don't know. It's in some sort of code, or maybe it's some scratch from far off, but I believe it's more likely the former than the latter." He rolls the parchment back up and glances around. That's when he notices Isabella and her greeting. He nods in response before facing Arabella, narrowing his eyes in thought. "How are you with codes and ciphers, Signora?"

*

Isabella's eyes follow the transaction between the Guard and the Beggar with the parchment returning, but her voice does lift to respond towards Raffiano, albeit a bit distracted. "Sheep's milk is very beneficial for the skin and hair. It softens both and helps to bring shine to the hair when treated with it, honey and a few other things. I have found it better to treat with milk that has the same color of the sheep, so a black wool for black hair. Or a white sheep for gray hair." The woman smiles as she explains but attention is lax as her head tilts some towards Cosimo, as if anticipation on her features weren't enough to express her own curiosity. She opens her mouth to speak, but closes it as the question was not directed towards her.

Reading, code, its above his payscale. No, ability, Raffiano has no interest in the idea of reading or code. More so because he thinks he could embarass himself by trying in present company. "Ohhh," he says in consideration and it makes sense to him, about sheep. "I wonder if we know anyone with black sheep now." That's a reflective thought spoken alloud, it shows in his eyes, as they glaze slightly and he looks down. "That's good advice," he comes around to Isabella in a sort of thanks. But then a slight turn back to the conspiracy afoot. "That's curious that he'd leave it like that." He caught on enough.
In the wake of the man leaving, it only takes a few children and other adults to start scooping up the money left so far, those that didn't take dropped offerings while the old man was still there. They pick up and erase any signs of his resent squat in that arched walkway leading to Via Ovest.

*

"I can read very well, ciphers and codes both." Arabella tells him as he addresses her and after she watches his attempts. Though as soon as she gets a good look at it too, if indeed he does allow her to look, she realizes it was something beyond her previous knowledge. No puzzle pieces. No hints or clues. A regretful shake of her head. "I cannot read this, unfortunately." And regretfully because her curiosity is high. She glances over to Raffiano. "My family has livestock. Sheep and everything." Just to let him know. And Isabella know too.

Cosimo does indeed let Arabella get a look. Having some idea of what the parchment says right here and now might have been helpful in figuring out the purposes of that old man, but apparently he's going to have to wait to find out what's written on it. He sighs. "That is a shame, though I thank you for at least trying." He watches the children make off with the money. "Curious." He says, eyes following a pair as they move away from the scene. He turns then to the others and asks, "Has anyone ever seen that man here at the markets before? I'm afraid I don't get out this way all that often myself." He takes a few steps forward to more properly join in on the conversation. "What are we discussing sheep for?" His eyes fall on Isabella and he narrows his eyes. "Hrm. I've seen you around before. You work for my wife do you not?"

*

Isabella is disciplined enough to not try to sneak a peak at the parchment as it moves around, rather she stands rather patiently while the more nobles speak. When asked about sheep, she offers, "For purchase of their milk." Her eyes look to Arabella and the smile is one of apology, "Thank you madame. I shall keep it in mind." Anything further is cut off as her eyes turn to Cosimo for her to add, "Yes. I recently returned from the East to join Mistress in the household."

*

"That is curious, ciphers?" Raffiano is out of the loop completely on all of that. "It must be something pretty," Raffiano fishes for wording, "Secretive." That parchment thy found. A grin to Arabella then, "Signora, you have a sheep to match my hair then? I think I should try this regiment of milk for my hair." Then again, as its usualy more unkempt than cared for, no telling if he's serious or not. "I do not know that man," then again, he doesn't know many inthe market or pay enough attention.
If any nearby merchants are asked, they will chime in too, "Only this day, that old beggar. Good to have him gone, the blind are bad luck." Talk about superstition. No telling if he was even blind really, but most seemed to assume so in their dismissive manner.

*

"I agree, it would have been most convenient." An exhale of a breath as it slightly blows some of her hair before she pushes it back behind her again. "Will you allow me to know what it says when you discover? I am very curious. I come here oft times and have never seen the old man before." Arabella does shift something of her attention to Isabella, something more shrewd in her expression. "My brother and I have been discussing more luxurious goods from our livestock. We have started selling fine leather from our cows," a smile to Raffiano as the answer then to the gloves question as well as the saddle could perhaps be answered. "If you are willing to part with your recipe for the soaps for different colored hair, I could ensure you were paid well. After all, you are a walking advertisement with your beautiful hair." Lifting her eyes to it, she stops short of actually touching it. "Of course you should try it, Signore Raffiano. As will I. We all should. It could be made more accessible were it to come made in small jugs of it."

*

Cosimo considers Isabella for a moment, and finally nods. "Here, see if you can make anything out of it." He offers the parchment over to her, and once it's been taken, he responds to Raffiano. "Could be anything really. Could be some petty intrigue that someone finds amusing, or it could be something more serious. Either way, once I find out, I will have to decide on what the proper course of action is, especially if it is something more, ah, nefarious." He nods, looking between the two. "Beautiful hair." He muses, eyeing Raffiano's hair. "How does a lady decide on when a man's hair is beautiful? Does it have to be a certain length?" Of which he has short hair. "Or does it involve other factors? I don't believe anyone has ever told me that I have beautiful hair, so I am both curious and looking for ways to tease my wife."

Isabella glances at the parchment offered to her but shakes her head, "I'm sorry Conte, but this is nothing I am familiar with. It is certainly not one of the languages I know." She glances at Cosimo as she hands it back, then looks towards the others offering a small smile, "The gesture and intent is most appreciated, however such decisions would like at the hand of the Contesa. If you were to ask her, I would be more than happy to supply the mixtures but without her permissions…" Isabella trails off and simply let's her demure smile remain.

*

Caught by slight surprise, Raffiano was joking about his hair, but seems to be curious himself. "I suppose it is the right amount of grit, a good day in the lists at practice with sword is something I'd recommend for maintaining healthy hair like mine." To get hair just as nice as his at least. He stays out of the business end of business, aside from, "If she does supply the mixture, I'd be glad to try it out." Just totry it of course. He does offer a little to help with the mystery afoot, "Why did the man want you to have it? Perhaps it relates to your family some how?" A bit of an extrapolation maybe, he tries at least. The more they talk about it.

*

"I.." Misunderstood, Arabella looks between Raffiano and the Conte, eyes slightly wide. "I did not mean.." but to refute it now when both seemed keen on the compliment to Raffi, she falls momentarily silent as pink steals into her cheeks. "Of course," she tells Raffi about trying it out. "I quite understand," she tells Isabella. "Perhaps I could meet with her soon then?" A look between the girl and the Conte, uncertain who to set the appointment with.

*

Cosimo nods to Isabella. "That is unfortunate, but thank you nevertheless." Now he turns to Raffiano. "Well, would you like a chance at figuring this out?" He grins and offers the parchment to him. "If not, I am certainly going to have some people work on this to see what they come up with." He looks between Isabella and Arabella. So many Bellas. "I have no problems with you meeting my wife, Signora." He gestures to Isabella. "She can help arrange something, or you could write to my wife directly. I am sure she would be delighted to meet with you."

Isabella curtsies a bit towards Arabella in acknowledgement and nods towards Cosimo, "I can speak with the Contesa about an appointment when I see her this evening. I am sorry that I was unable to cede the parchment. If you wish Conte, I can speak with some others in the city to see if any know more of this individual."

*

What, useful, nefarious plots. Raffiano loves his fair city, he takes the parchment, "Certainly, it is probably Kataro." He's certain, but he picks up the numbers that isn't words at all in his mind. His chest swells, but this is like making words out of the stars at night, and he exhales. Deflated, his voice is even less enthusiastic than before, "I … no, I cannot make sense of this. I should have studied more under the tuteliage of Leonio the Scholar, then I could read and write." He admits his lack of skill rather openly. "I hope you can find the culprit," he just assumes its a plot all the same, his voice lower, "I'd hate to think I was part the downfall of whatever may happen because of my wistful youth." Which continues to this day, adventure first, but not in this moment.

*

Garden arrives from the Via Ovest.

*

Garden has arrived.

*

Garden has partially disconnected.

*

Arabella gives a dip of her head to the Conte and then to Isabella, "Thank you both, I look forward to it." As Raffiano gives the parchment a look, she wears a hopeful expression, watching his own as it dips into something more disheartened. With sympathy flashing in her eyes, she gives him a shake of her head. "Even those of us who are quite capable of reading are having a hard time ciphering it. No reason to feel bad about it, truly."

*

Taking the parchment back from Raffiano, Cosimo nods. "No shame in that, I'm sure you have talents elsewhere." His eyes narrow, head tilting to the side. "Wistful youth? Ha. There's not a person in this city who doesn't look back on their 'wistful youth' with some foundness, so you should be quite safe in that regard." And he gestures towards Arabella. "She's right, so don't worry about it, Signore. Besides, you had a beautiful young lady compliment your hair earlier, that should be enough to give you good cheer for the rest of the day, if not the entire week." He offers Raffiano a brief grin before nodding to Isabella. "Yes, I would like to know more about that old man if it's possible."

*

Isabella restrains from comment on the topics of reading or the actions of youth, she instead smiles between those of station and nods in acknowledgement to Cosimo, "Conte, I will see what I can shake loose this afternoon. I am certain some bread and perhaps a few coins will garner something." She speaks then towards the others with a smile, "Warm bread, I have found, will loosen words and thoughts almost as fast as coins at much lower price."

*

He's still looking off a little, the words may help, mildly. Yet his voice remains low and down cast, "It is true, I never thought I had good hair." But it was a compliment, that doesn't shake that depth of failure at being unable to read the nefarious note. "But you are right, you who are more skilled cannot make the right sense of this, and I have only deluded myself into thinking I could stand amongst peers and contribute." Another sigh from the man. "But I am distracting from the conversation I am sure. It was of wool and hair." Well, not it shifted to the note. "Warm bread, is that part of the recipe, with the honey?" Yep, he's moving to the other topic in the markets this day.

*

It is very likely that Garden has been a frequent sight within the market over the days past. It is clear that a few faces recognize the Contessa as she arrives on horseback from the road beyond, tucked upon a saddle in a green — suitable to Gaspari colors — gown and a cloak in a much darker green so as to be nearly black. The hood is lowered and her hair is bound up in an intricate crown braid woven through with a string of beads that form into a gold cloth diadem across her brow embroidered with the self-same beads. Some of spring's first blooms have been tucked into the braid carefully. The horse moves at a slow pace so that the few house guard with her need not rush to keep up. Once at the edge of the piazza, one of them takes the reins while another helps her down. She murmurs her thanks, relinquishing the cloak as well; less need for it in the thick of the people, perhaps.

The Avicorsan woman has not moved far before she hears familiar voices and she abandons her consideration of something or another at a nearby stall before moving up to her husband's side to tuck fingers through the crook of his elbow. "Cosimo," she says brightly, that Southern Avicorse lilt apparent in her voice, "I was not aware you were coming to the market today." There's a faintly bemused glance — swiftly, from the corner of her eye — to Isabella before her attention moves instead for Raffiano and Arabella both.

*

Arabella could no longer correct herself and still save feelings and so she allows the Albrici man to believe she had complimented his hair. Despite that and his continued morose reasoning, she gives him an encouraging smile. "I think it is not bread in the milk and honey." But she no longer mentions the parchment, allowing it to be steered from that. With the newest arrival she watches the approach and the gesture to taking the Conte's arm. A dip of her head and a curtsy before Arabella straightens. "Good day to you, Contessa, it is a pleasure to see you."

*

Since his guards did nothing to stop the person coming to his side, Cosimo aassumes it's his wife, and his suspicions are confirmed as she speaks. "Garden, I am pleased to see you. We have just been discussing a wide variety of topics although." He gestures towards Arabella. "The Signora here was hoping to meet with you soon. It is rather good timing that you arrived here in the markets when you did." He's still holding the parchment in his other hand. He offers it over to her. "Also, we had a little experience with an old man who seemed to be pretending to be a begger. He had this parchment in his hand. Would you care to see if you can make it out? It is in some sort of code."

*

Isabella curtsies to Garden as she arrives, offering the Contessa a neutral look as she speaks, "Madam, I was about to finish shopping for personal items and then prepare a brief foray into town again, with permission of course." Her eyes dart momentarily towards Cosimo before returning to Garden . Her expression is a bit amused and then they acknowledge the others with a dip, "The bread… is merely a bribe, not an ingredient in the treatment. But if you will all beg pardon, I should continue my shopping so I can attend all duties."

*

Pulling himself up at least, Raffiano stands at his full height. Which is close to average, so nothing spectacular there, but he's picked himself up. Some determination there. "Signora, good day," he greets the latest arrival, picking up enough that Cosimo may just be above his station, he tries his hand at his dignity for the time being. "Thank you for the suggestion of milk and honey, I do mean to try it." He is cordial tothe parting woman as she returns to duties. "I hope so, that this plot may be ended," that is in agreement with Cosimo as they attention may focus more towards Garden now and if she can decipher the parchment. No smile in his eyes or at his lips, but dignity is at least there for now.

The Contessa accepts the parchment from her husband, but is largely distracted in the process; almost too much so to really look at it. She dips her head towards Arabella. "I had actually wished to speak with you soon, myself, Signora. I was going to send an invitation to your home, but this works just as well. Providence smiles upon us, it would seem." And Garden's own maid seems to be slipping off. There's a sort of look in Isabella's direction and a gesture that way. Instead of any idle — or not-so — threat, she just points to her. "Izzy, dear, that difficult button upon my favorite gown seems to have come loose again. Will you help me see to it later, please?"

Only then does she lean slightly into her husband's arm to look at the parchment itself. "An old man, you say?" She looks from it, to Cosimo, before handing it back. "Are you certain it's not just the scratchings of madness? Did you steal it off of him? He ought be sent to a doctor."

*

"Oh no it was not stolen, he was trying to rid himself of it, asking please, holding it out. As soon as the guard took it, the man hurried out, leaving coin behind." Arabella sort of updates the Countess. "I am glad that we have met though, it seems it was meant to be. I was just about to see you to ask about your servant." An indication towards Isabella. "She mentioned caring for her hair with sheeps milk and honey, and I asked for the recipe for it, she said she would gladly with your permission." The rest of the area is faded for now for her, as she is more focused on the matter here.

*

"It's true, the old man did hand it off to Alonzo." Cosimo gestures to one of his guards as he verifies Arabella's story. "I guess it's something that we'll have to spend some more time looking into it later." He reaches over and gently pats his wife's hand. "Why don't you hold onto it for now, my dear." Isabella's departure to go shopping is noticed, but for now, he's content on the conversation at hand, before adding some advice of his own. "I've found that keeping my hair short makes it easier to maintain." No one said it was helpful advice, but the topic of women's hair isn't really something he's spent a great deal of time becoming learned in.

"Yes, very curious, he was trying to be rid of it like poison," says Raffiano, not suspicious at all. Some curiousity lost with his failure to read the parchment still there, his face doir. He'll help if he can, but questioning his value in this mystery. Its not in his hands at least. Ah, a topic he didn't know he was an expert on until today, his hair. "I think we differ in this Signore," he picks up, just a smidge, "I found it easier to just let it grow. The time spent having it maintained, short or not, is reduced." Knots much, probably with the waves he gets in there too. "If you should need anything in this, I can certainly speak to my brother the Conte Nicolo di Albrici. Perhaps some old tome has the code to this mysterious parchmant."

*

"I see." Garden looks back to the parchment, frowning somewhat. "Well, perhaps I have some things in the library at the manse that can help uncover its secrets. If-" she gives her husband an appraising look, "there are any." And she hands it off to one of her own guards for safekeeping for the moment. No need to keep her own hands occupied. From there she gives a look to Arabella, considering. "Well, I was going to invite you and your family to dinner one night this week. A break from all of those preparations for your feast. I am certain your home must be quite the madhouse at the moment. Perhaps you could all come by, relax, and I can see about having Isabella provide the recipe when you do?"

She tilts her head slightly when Raffiano mentions his brother. "It is quite possible. I do know my husband had wished to meet with your brother. Perhaps something could be arranged at one home or another and while the two of them have their meeting, we could go over the books, yes?" Likely picking up on the dour mood and wishing to extend the offer to assist in lifting it to what extent she may. "Something may be found between our two libraries, I am sure."

*

A touch to her own hair and Arabella smiles, "I could not imagine keeping mine so short. Though I have met a lady with short hair, just last evening." Her eyes flicker to Raffiano's. "Your sister, actually. She seems really cheerful. I showed her how to eat a flower." A smile of mischief is given his way but she does not clarify for now. When she is addressed by the Countess, she smiles eagerly, dipping her head in agreement. "The preparations are indeed busy, but speaking for myself, I would love getting to come by. I will pass the invitation along to my brother Cristof and Enzo as well."

*

"Ah, yes. I would indeed like to speak to your brother, Conte Nicolo." Cosimo says pleasantly to Raffiano. "This can be yet one more thing for the two of us to discuss." He bows his head in thanks for such a grand idea. To Garden, "I'm sure there are a few books hidden away somewhere. Ask Aldo perhaps." He nods, allowing for his wife to converse with Arabella a moment or two before chiming in. "Yes, we would indeed love to have you all over, and we are eagerly anticipating the feast in several days time."

*

He has some purpose now, see, his heart is heavy with his failure, but he has purpose. "Yes, I shall pass on that word to him." A nod from Raffiano there. "I would be glad to help with the books, they can discuss business, I can show you are collections." He might not be able to read, but he knows where those damn things are for certain it seems. "It would be good to know something good came of this. I do not adhere to fate, I don't think, but perhaps there was some reason in this." Ecclectic gathering at the market, the odd note. Teamwork. A slight look towards Arabella, "Signora, I could not imagine you with shorter hair either. For some perhaps, but yours is well as it is." He can't even must flowered words. A blink though, "The poison one, I thought non could be eaten?" Flowers that is.

*

"I, too, doubt I could ever have short hair," Garden agrees with Arabella. And in a faux-whisper, she asides: "I am certain Cosimo would be in dismay if I were to ever cut mine." She glances to her husband with a playful expression, giving his arm a squeeze where she holds it. "I will certainly ask Aldo, yes. When the meeting is arranged, we can have them brought so that the Signore-" a nod to Raffiano, "and I can peruse both collections and perhaps find some answers therein while you and Conte Nicolo speak business." She looks to Arabella then. "Yes, please, pass it along to your brothers. We would love to have you all over. Take an evening off and allow House Gaspari to tend to your meal and entertainment for an evening. Perhaps we will even be able to convince Salvatore to remain home for the night."

*

"I look forward to it, Conte, Contessa." Arabella counts up the days and widens her eyes slightly. "Our Spring Feast is in three days time! It is so soon! I am excited about it. I hope everyone dances, we will have lovely music." A blush rises in her cheeks as she lifts her eyes to Raffiano. "You had mentioned eating poppies, they are not for food, they are poison. I thought it easier to tell you all flowers are poison than to show you the difference in some that are not." A tilt of her head. "Perhaps I could show you once we leave the market? Or on another day. Most plants and flowers you should consider poison and please do not eat them." Leaving it at that for now, Arabella smiles as she listens to the planning in regards to the parchment. Adding towards the end though, she agrees easily. "I will pass along the invitation. We look forward to seeing you also in just a few days. I should go for now and round up my brothers if I am able to ever get them in the same place at the same time."

"My thanks." Cosimo says, nodding to Raffiano. "And let me just state that I was in no way suggesting that the ladies should cut their hair, I was only speaking for myself." He glances to the side at Garden with a pleasant smile. "How could I ever ask you to cut your hair, dearest Garden. Your hair flows like…" And here is where he tries to be flirtatious with his wife, but instead the distractions of wondering about this parchment has him describe her hair like flowing vines instead of a beautiful waterfall. Oops. Someone's probably going to be sleeping on the Sitting Room instead of his bedroom tonight. And what probably makes it worse is that he doesn't even realize that he's done it yet either, because he just smiles and nods to Arabella. "It was a pleasure seeing you again, please give your brothers my regard, Signora."

*

Raffiano likes the he has that purpose, less focus on his failure. His family can deal with that tonight most likely, him being mopey. He's not perky or his usual self, but his here in the present at least. "Oh certainly, Signore," he agrees with a nod to the Conte relating to hair. He can't even suggest a word for the metaphor there, his too distracted to help in the context of some man who waits on the wings of another to assure they are successful in their barbaric ways of speaking words to interested parties like that. Though the flower gets his attention, away from the near conversation beween Conte and Contessa. "I will pass along the words as well, Signore, Signora." Then a nod towards Arabella, "Perhaps you should teach me the difference in flowers, it could take my mind from the nefarious plot about Matora this day for certain." If there is parting of ways, it gives a new objective at least, outsdie the markets.

*

"Once you have heard from your brothers, Signora, please do send word. I will make certain the kitchens are ready to receive visitors." As are the kitchens of most of the Houses, surely. One never knows when the whims of the families might go one way or another. The Contessa looks to her husband as he begins upon his compliment, eyebrow arching. And then it goes awry and her features fall flat. Her tone does, as well, becoming a bit more like ice than the more pleasant tonal quality it had before. She pats him on the arm — once — before disengaging. "Well," Garden says before stepping away. "I had some merchants to speak with before it grew too late in the day. It was lovely to see all of you. Signora, I do look forward to the feast in a few days time. Signore-" a tilt of her head to Raffiano, "hopefully we find some answers in those books."

Cosimo does not get a word of departure before she starts her way off towards market stalls, guards in tow.

*

The jest had been returned, Arabella likewise had no intention of cutting her hair. The compliment though, falls far short and her eyes widen. Vines? A wince she cannot hide and she deliberately engages with Raffiano instead, to give the husband and wife some privacy. "I could show you a more edible one, Signore." Agreeing right away to it. She dips her head to both the Conte and Contessa, a smile of warmth to Garden as well as a sympathetic one to Cosimo. "Do forgive me for leaving, but I must go. Have a good remainder of the day." And taking Raffiano's arm, she saves him from whatever may happen next!

Garden's features going icy and flat and her pulling away gives Cosimo all that he needs to know. "Hrm." He says, nodding to Arabella and Raffiano. "No forgiveness necessary, I too must depart as well." Because now it seems like he needs to go make some arrangements himself. Offering one more nod to both Raffiano and Arabella, he gestures to his guards, who have the good sense to stare straight ahead, and heads towards the Via Ovest. Maybe he'd get lucky and there was a trouba-whatever the Avicorsan word was for the fancy poets. One hoped for as much at least.